


me & you together

by chlodine



Series: from tumblr [12]
Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25503403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chlodine/pseuds/chlodine
Summary: “What’s your favourite colour? Blue? Green? A specific shade of beige?”“Dickhead,” Nadine mutters, lighthearted still.
Relationships: Chloe Frazer/Nadine Ross
Series: from tumblr [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1105329
Comments: 8
Kudos: 116





	me & you together

**Author's Note:**

> still screaming abt playstation music putting me & u together song on the tll playlist
> 
> [original fic](https://nadiineross.tumblr.com/post/623177354293968898/note-they-hv-been-partners-for-like-half-a-yr-to)

It isn’t that Nadine doesn’t talk—she talks often and hardly ever minces her words—nor is it that what she says lacks substance. Really, the issue is that what she says is almost always something pressing and important: _Have you tried this button? Duck! Oi, there’s a man on your six._

Not all the time, of course. There is no shortage of Nadine’s animal facts; endears Chloe to no end, those. Sometimes, after a heart-dropping, pants-wetting fight, Nadine’ll make a quip about a statue or a mural they come across. And the “ _assholes_ ” and “ _dickheads_ ” aren’t exactly hard to pry out from her, especially Chloe being, well, Chloe.

Trying to prompt anything else out of Nadine, however, seems to be like pulling teeth.

Or no, that’s not quite right.

It doesn't seem like Nadine consciously avoids it, much less makes a concerted effort not to partake in personal conversations. These things just... haven't come up. Besides, Chloe didn't even realize it’s been like this until recently. 

A few days ago, at the airport, Chloe had been charged with buying travel snacks and had stood in front of the aisle for ages trying desperately to recall Nadine’s food preferences. She knows Nadine is Jewish and therefore kept kosher, and she knows that Nadine ate MREs a lot. And that was it.

She ended up buying one of each kind of granola bar and kept an eye out to see which ones Nadine seemed to like more.

The thing is, Chloe knows a lot of things about Nadine, like her preferred handgun and most of her history with Shoreline, but the finer details? A mystery. 

So, she endeavours to find out.

Chloe loves looking at Nadine; it’s quickly becoming one of her favourite pastimes. But there's only so much you can learn from just observation and she’s never been a particularly subtle person anyway, not unless she was trying really hard. Also, she’s mildly concussed from a rough tumble down a hillside. So, she leans her arms onto the dashboard of the jeep, cheek pressed sideways to look at Nadine, and says, mischievous: “Let’s play a game.”

Nadine doesn’t even bat an eye. “Sure. What is it?”

“20 questions,” says Chloe, “but with a twist.”

Now, Nadine raises her eyebrows, but still amiable, she prompts Chloe to continue with a wave of her hand.

“Okay, so _I_ get to ask all the questions—”

Nadine laughs and Chloe can’t fight the grin that blooms across her face. “That seems unfair.”

“No, no, it’s fair.” At Nadine’s disbelief, Chloe pouts. “Come on, you’re forcing me to just sit here while you do everything. The least you could do is entertain me.”

“Do you even know how to change a tire?” Nadine asks as she climbs over the driver's seat to the back of the jeep.

Chloe scowls. “Um, yes? I’m the best driver in the business.”

Nadine grunts, the car jerks, and she rounds the corner on Chloe's side of the car with the spare tire in her arms. When she's reached the passenger door, she stops to give Chloe a sceptical look. “ _Allegedly_ the best driver in the business.”

She goes as far as to give the spare tire an unnecessary, pointed heave. Chloe squints at her.

“Look, accidents happen. I'm sure you've blown a tire at least once in your life.” It's not easy, dodging bullets by car over rocky ground, and there's not even a scratch on the paint job! Chloe would like to see Nadine try.

“Ja, sure,” Nadine replies, easily.

“The _point_ is that I know how to change a tire, thank you very much.”

“Ah, okay, sorry for not making you, my concussed partner, do the heavy lifting.”

“S’alright, love,” she says, shamelessly, then frowns. “Anyway, the game. The rules.”

Nadine snorts. The car starts to rock a little. From her side, Chloe can see Nadine’s bobbing ponytail from where she’s crouched. “The game, the rules,” she echoes, faintly breathless, after a beat.

Chloe pictures Nadine in her tank top, holding a wrench or something in her capable, greased-up hands, and thinks she might be getting a little breathless too, at the mental image. She swallows, shakes it off. “I ask all the questions, yes, _but_ I also have to answer them myself. Never say I don’t do anything for you.”

“I’m endlessly grateful.”

Chloe ignores her. “First question: who taught you how to change a tire?”

Nadine makes a huffing sound, a cross between surprise and amusement colouring her voice. “My dad. Can’t exactly run a PMC like Shoreline without basic knowledge in vehicle maintenance.”

Shoreline did, indeed, have many vehicles. It would have been a miracle if, between all the rocky terrain and the shooting, none of the tires ever blew.

Chloe hums. “Makes sense. My mum taught me. Liked to go off-roading, so I know a thing or two about cars.”

“Only two? And yet you still call yourself the better driver?”

“Hey now! Okay, then. I see how it is. We’re having a race the moment we get back to civilization. And don’t forget the rules. _I_ ask the questions.”

“Sure.” Nadine smiles, lazily, cockily. Chloe wants to kiss it off her. “Go ahead, then. Ask me a question.”

Chloe pretends to think very hard. “Alright, out with it. I’ve been dying to know.” She pauses, for the effect. Then: “What’s your favourite colour?”

Again, Nadine laughs and Chloe tries not to be too open about the adoring stare she’s probably directing at her partner.

“Blue? Green? A specific shade of beige?”

“Dickhead,” Nadine mutters, lighthearted still. “This one actually isn’t fair because I already know your favourite colour.”

Speaking of, today’s red clothing item of the day is her thin plaid button-down, dirtied at the hem. Chloe adjusts the sleeve, a little smug. “Rules are rules, Ms Ross.”

Nadine’s nose wrinkles at the name though the corners of her lips tug a little. “Olive green, I suppose.”

A thought occurs then, and Chloe sits up a little. “Hold on, are you an earth sign?”

“Please don’t tell me you believe in astrology.”

“I don’t,“ she says, tone defensive enough to give it away. Then, she sniffs and turns her nose up. “But I’m open-minded and I have nothing against the folk who do.”

The car jerks again, the sounds of tools bang over Nadine’s responding sound of disbelief. “I’ll add anti-astrology sentiment to the list of things I have to make up for.”

“You do that. Don’t forget the crimes you committed against my taste buds with your MREs. Speaking of food, or things masquerading as food, in this case, what’s your favourite thing to eat?”

Another clunking sound rings out, and then Nadine’s eyes peek over the top of the door. First, she gives Chloe a fond look. Then, an almost reverent expression deepens into her face. “My mother’s cooking. Anything she makes. Paradise for your mouth.”

“Oh? You’ll have to introduce me, sometime.” Chloe would genuinely love the opportunity to meet the woman who raised Nadine. Would donate a few organs for it, maybe.

“Ja, sure.” Nadine’s brown eyes disappear again. “What’s _your_ favourite food?”

Purposely putting on a thicker accent, channelling the inner-bogan she had long since repressed, Chloe says, “Aw, mate, vegemite toast of course.”

For her troubles, she is rewarded with Nadine’s laughter. Well worth it. 

“Of course.” Chloe can hear the smile in her voice. “Such refined taste.”

“Don't knock it till you try it, love.”

“Hm, you could make it for me after this,” Nadine says, absentmindedly.

Already, Chloe's thinking of her fridge back in her London apartment, trying to remember if the jar of vegemite she hasn't touched in ages has expired or not. Tries to picture Nadine's expression if Chloe really did serve her up a plate of toast spread in a thin layer of vegemite for breakfast. The domesticity, the abrupt desire for it, startles Chloe, something warm spreading in her chest uncomfortably.

Before she can stop herself, Chloe blurts out: “What’s your type, then?”

There’s a long silent beat. Chloe’s about to backtrack, apologize for overstepping her bounds when the car shakes again and Nadine blows out a breath from exertion. She stands up, hands on her hips, and blinks at Chloe. “Hm, O negative?”

“I— What?”

“My blood type is O negative.” Apparently unbothered by Chloe’s bewildered expression, Nadine does a few stretches, twisting this way and that. 

She has no idea if Nadine is pulling her leg. “I’m...” Chloe stops. Opens her mouth. Closes it. Starts again, stupidly: “I’m B.”

Nadine picks up the flat tire she’s just removed. When she speaks, she doesn’t sound winded, even after everything and even lugging a big ol’ tire around. “Would you be my blood donor if I needed one?” she muses aloud.

In her confusion, Chloe automatically replies, “I dunno, what if I’m scared of needles?”

“Are you?”

“...No.”

Nadine huffs a laugh and comes back to pick up the tools she’d left on the ground.

Any other time, Chloe would happily accept this gift of a misunderstanding and let it go, but she's still curious. So, she gears herself up again, to say: “I mean, what’s your type—you know, in significant others?”

This time, Nadine fumbles and there's a heavy clank of metal that would ordinarily make Chloe wince.

Now, she just grins and looks over her shoulder. “Personally, I like my men stupid and everyone else smart.”

“I...” Nadine clears her throat. An array of emotions flicker across her face—cheeks flushing, eyebrows jumping, lips twitching—before her features finally settle into a look of bewilderment. “Um. Independent. I suppose.”

Chloe’s mouth tugs wider. “You suppose.”

Nadine just shrugs. Finally, she leaves the back of the jeep, done with the tire, and climbs back into the driver’s seat. “I don’t think about it too hard. Either a woman is attractive to me or they aren’t.”

Chloe looks at her for a long while. Tries to discern what emotions Nadine might be feeling, what she thinks about this particular line of questioning, figuring if she’s putting out some hints for Chloe to pick up on.

Chloe thinks, briefly, to ask if she is one such attractive woman herself. The car starts smoothly, and Chloe, for once, decides to approach this one with a bit more finesse. She has been plenty transparent already. She decides not to ask, instead, she leans back and kicks her feet up.

“Let’s switch in an hour. It just feels wrong to let you drive.”

Nadine snorts. The conversation, water under the bridge. “Is the interview over, then?”

“Sure,” Chloe says. “For now.”

In the end, Chloe figures she got all the answers she needs.

**Author's Note:**

> nadine: My type in women is o neg :)
> 
> comment, kudos, all appreciated. stay safe, wear masks, etc etc<3 idk if im gonna scrape together the energy to participate in chlodine week but i hope i can and if not im at least excited to see everyone else's contributions!


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